


Comfortember 2020 Fills

by Luna (Lovely_Luna)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Agent Fowler not having a stick up his ass for once, And the archive warnings may be updated, Back Kibble? Kangaroo Pouch, But not really because they're not together yet, Cultural Differences, Energon Candy, Implied/Referenced Sex, Just 2 gay bots and their chaotic human child, Mama Hen Ratchet is Best Ratchet, Megatronus is confused by his friend, Multi, Neurodivergent robots, Orion commits a faux pas again, Reconcilation, Robot kisses and cuddles, Robots being soft, Sappy old people being sappy, Sensory Overload, Sneaking away for dates, Tags will be updated as more is added, Team Prime is a family, The Kids Care A Lot about the Bots, The kids Demand Cuddles, or maybe not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Luna/pseuds/Luna
Summary: This is where I'm dumping all my fills for the Comfortember 2020 Challenge. Will be updated at least every few days.Tumblr blog for the challenge: https://comfortember.tumblr.com/Tumblr post with the prompts:https://baloobird.tumblr.com/post/628366346394189824/comfortember
Relationships: Bulkhead & Miko Nakadai, Bulkhead/Wheeljack (Transformers), Bumblebee/Smokescreen (Transformers), Jack Darby & Optimus Prime, Jack Darby & Rafael "Raf" Esquivel & Miko Nakadai, Jack Darby & Ratchet, Megatron & Orion Pax, Miko Nakadai & Optimus Prime, Miko Nakadai & Ratchet, Miko Nakadai & Wheeljack, Optimus Prime/Ratchet, Rafael "Raf" Esquivel & Optimus Prime, Rafael "Raf" Esquivel & Ratchet
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	1. Makeshift Headphones (Prompt 1: Rescue)

Optimus laid on his front in one of the underground warehouses, servos over his audials and his optics squinted shut. He didn’t know what was happening. Just that everything was so  _ bright _ and  _ loud _ and he needed out, but nothing he did would help. His protocols were refusing to offline either piece of sensory hardware, as it felt like he was in danger. His protocols for alt mode were locked, as well, though he could not determine why. And forget about overrides--they didn’t work when you were a Prime.

His smokestacks spat out another few tendrils of light smoke as he bit his lip behind his battle mask. He honestly felt ashamed of himself; all the battles he’s been through, and he was taken out by his senses being rushed with input? That’s something that only happens to sparklings, not a Prime, never a Prime--

Suddenly, he felt something soft against the back of his servo. He jumped a bit, his hydraulics hissing as he flinched away. He turned his head and barely opened his optics to see Raf standing behind...an impossibly large pillow.  _ Where did he even get that? _

Optimus didn’t bother to ask. He just stared at Raf. The boy stared back before he walked out from behind the pillow and gestured in what Optimus’s translation protocols registered as ASL,  _ Are you OK? _

Optimus just put his servos back against his audials and shook his head, optics burning with shame as he closed them again. Raf gently touched on his arm, silently urging him to open his optics again. Optimus sighed deeply, expelling more little tendrils of smoke as he forced himself to reopen his optics.

When he did, Miko was also in front of him, with another pillow of an unholy size and strangely silent. Genuine concern filled the features of her face, however. Raf gestured to the pillows and signed  _ These are to muffle the sounds. Put them over your ears. _

Optimus nodded hesitantly before closing his optics yet again, grabbing the pillows and pressing one to each of his audials. It wasn’t perfect, but the loud rattle of the AC and the sounds of commotion from upstairs were muffled enough to make it bearable. He sighed out in relief and slowly sat up onto his knees, keeping his face towards the floor due to the light. Raf noted that in the corner of his vision, Jack was quietly rummaging along the walls, trying to find the light switch for the warehouse before he shrugged at the other children, unable to find it.

Raf touched Optimus’s leg to prompt him to open his optics before signing out  _ Can’t turn off the lights, sorry. Do you want company till you feel better? _

Optimus thought for a long minute, his spark swelling at the gestures, before he shook his head.

“Thank you.” He spoke softly, shuddering as the rumble from his own voice rubbed him the wrong way and he pressed the pillows harder to his audials.

The children held back for a minute to make sure the Prime was going to be OK, before they took off to give him space.


	2. Just as Warm, Just as Beautiful (Prompt 2: First day/night)

Ratchet moaned softly as he onlined his optics, trying to bask in the warmth of sleep for as long as possible, but to no avail. He stretched just a bit before strong arms pulled him in tighter, making a little gruff sound and cradling him as though he were a treasure. _ Leave it to Optimus to be a cuddle bug _ , Ratchet chuckled a bit to himself

He looked up to his partner, smiling softly at how Optimus’s features were so calm, still bathed in the afterglow from the night prior. He brought his servos up to either side of his faceplate, gently stroking his cheeks with his thumbs.

Optimus’s optics onlined at the stimulus, though he was still groggy. A low groan rattled through the Prime, thick with sleep.

“Oh...I’m sorry, Sweetspark.” Ratchet whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It is fine, Old Friend.” Optimus turned his head to kiss the palm of Ratchet’s servo, and the medic’s spark melted all over again. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“Yes, I did, Optimus…” Ratchet giggled a bit, petting his helm. The Prime leaned a bit, pressing his faceplate against his friend’s chest and kissing right over where his spark lay. A warmth bloomed inside Ratchet, and he settled with a gentle hum.

“You are just so beautiful, you know.” Optimus murmured. “I never get tired of you.”

“Optimus...stop kissing me. I don’t have time for a round two.” Ratchet’s optics burned at how whiny and needy he sounded.

“My apologies. I’ll give you some space.” Optimus relented, starting to pull himself away from Ratchet entirely.

“No, no, wait.” Ratchet clung to him. “I still want to cuddle. You’re warm.”

A low chuckle from Optimus as he petted the medic’s helm. “Am I now?”

“Yes. Just as warm as the first time.”

Optimus’s spark skipped a bit. He rolled a bit so Ratchet was on top of him, and his partner replied with a little siren whop of surprise. 

“And you’re just as beautiful.” 

“You’re just saying things.” Ratchet lowered his head.

“I’m not.” Optimus tilted Ratchet’s head back up with the back of his servo, taking great care. “You’re so beautiful and precious.”

“You are more so.”

“We are equals, then. I will not argue this with you, my Starlight.”

Ratchet felt his legs quiver a bit--if Optimus weren’t holding him in berth, he would have swooned and fallen over. He nuzzled into the Prime’s neck, helm pressed against the delicate cabling as he felt the Energon pulse through comfortingly, a sign that they were  _ alive _ and this wasn’t just some cruel dream Ratchet concocted. Love and desire burned through him, and he shuddered slightly.

“...Can we go for a second round?” Ratchet asked softly after a long while. Optimus gently patted his back, a little chuckle escaping him.

“Of course.”


	3. In Good Company (Prompt 3: Nightmare)

Bulkhead awoke with a start, venting shallowly to cool his system. He couldn’t remember where he was or what happened. All he remembered was wide expanses of nothing, of being alone and wandering aimlessly hoping to find someone. 

_ Alone. _

“Bulk?” A tired voice asked, the shifting of a frame heard from the other side of the berth. Bulkhead jumped a bit before relaxing, realizing that it was good company. Wheeljack. Right, he was recharging next to Wheeljack.

“Yeah, Jackie?”

“What’s goin’ on? You look like you’ve seen a Terracon.”

“I...it’s nothing, really.”

“No, it’s not nothing, Bulkhead.” Wheeljack shifted to sit up, gently scooping Miko up so she would not be crushed. She luckily remained asleep for the moment, unbothered by the warmth.

“...You’re not going to leave again, right?” Bulkhead asked suddenly. “Not just gonna, like, take off again?”

“Not for a long while, no.” Wheeljack shook his head. “And definitely not in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”

Bulkhead sniffed a bit, both relieved that his nightmare wasn’t real, but also saddened by the fact that Wheeljack implied plans for future departure. 

“...I was hoping this would be forever, you know.” Bulkhead looked to Wheeljack with a dejected expression. Miko stirred at hearing his voice, reaching for him with bleary eyes. Wheeljack carefully passed the child over to Bulkhead before sighing and nervously wiggling his fingers.

“You know I can’t promise forever.” 

“I know…”

“But I can promise now. And...and I can promise tomorrow.”

Bulkhead teared up again, thankful that Miko had fallen back to sleep, safely tucked away in her sleeping bag within his hand.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you were expendable to me for so long.” Wheeljack suddenly spoke, a regretful tone in his voice.

“I  _ am _ expendable.” Bulkhead chuckled bitterly. “It’s why any time I dream of my future, it’s being alone.”

“No you’re not. You have never been. Not to Cybertron, not to your team, not to Miko...and certainly not to me. You probably have those dreams because...you don’t get reminded enough.”

Bulkhead looked to his partner for a long while, his spark becoming uncomfortably heavy in its chamber. He shifted, still cradling his human charge, and leaned back against the headboard. In a rare show of gentle intimacy, Wheeljack pressed his helm to Bulkhead’s, his frame humming as his own spark swelled. Bulkhead pressed back, his tears finally flowing.

“Love you.” Wheeljack was almost silent, and he gently interlaced his fingers with the ones on Bulkhead’s free hand.

“Love you too.” The response sounded rehearsed, rushed like a child in the school play. But it carried sincerity that was almost incomprehensible. 

“‘S the band back together…?” A familiar child’s voice crooned from below. Both bots optics burned as they looked down at Miko, who was awake and crawling out of her sleeping bag nest.

“Back together and stronger than ever.” Bulkhead gently curled a finger for her to hug, as he knew by now she would demand.

“Good.”

Wheeljack just chuckled and rested his helm against Bulkhead’s shoulder as they both watched the child with wonder.

And Bulkhead ponders how he ended up in such good company.


	4. Butterflies (Prompt 4: Anxiety)

_ :Hurry up, Smokescreen!:  _ Bumblebee chirped out over comms.  _ :Or have you gotten rusty and slow like an old bot?: _

“I’m like, a century younger than you are, Bee!” Smokescreen protested, revving his engine and putting a bit more speed into it. “Where are you taking me, anyways?”

_ :It’s a surprise.:  _ Bee buzzed, teasing. Smokescreen just groaned in response, and then chuckled.

Bumblebee transformed out of alt mode suddenly in the middle of the woods, and Smokescreen followed suit. The entire time Bee remained silent, and Smokescreen just whistled along with the birds in the distance to fill what he thought was an awkward silence. Bee led him all the way to a waterfall, turning and pointing.  _ :This is it.: _

“A...waterfall? Right?” Smokescreen hoped he’d gotten the word correct.

_ :Yeah, but...I wanna show you what’s behind it.: _ Bee’s optics went wide and soft as he took the guardsmech’s hand and pulled him into the water and through the cascade. Smokescreen felt a twinge of fluttering in his tanks as the water washed over him, and when he opened his eyes on the other side, he gasped in shock.

The cave was full of crystals lining the walls, and though they were raw and didn’t shine or glow, they were diverse in colors. He turned to Bumblebee, silent as the fluttering returned. 

_ :Do you like it?: _ Bee buzzed, very enthusiastic.

“I...yeah, I love it.” He smiled. He  _ did _ genuinely love it, he just had an emotion he couldn’t quite place. It felt like something was skittering along the insides of his tanks, but he just figured it was his protocols still being wonky from stasis.  _...OK, maybe it was his growing crush on Bumblebee. But don’t tell Optimus. Optimus would scrap him. _

_ :Look at this one!:  _ Bee ran over and pointed to a pink cluster protruding out of a broken geode.  _ :Raf told me this one is called rose quartz.: _

Smokescreen smiled brightly and swayed as he walked to the scout and kneeled next to him, eyes wide in wonder. “It looks like an Energon goodie.”

Neither of them had ever actually  _ had _ a goodie, because they were both forged well into the war, and all production of such frivolous foodstuffs had all but stopped. However, Smokescreen had seen pictures in the Hall of Records and Bumblebee heard about them from Optimus, who promised him one as soon as they restored Cybertron.

_ :Maybe it is one? All kinds of slag was left on Earth during the war.:  _ Bee half-joked.  _ :You wanna try to eat it and see what happens?: _

Smokescreen shook his head. “No thanks, my tanks are flipping right now.”

_ :What’s wrong? Are you ill?: _

“I don’t...think so?” A head tilt. “I just...there’s a fluttering going on in there. Like scraplets crawling inside, but...without the pain.”

_ :Ohhh, you have butterflies in your tummy!:  _ Bee’s beeps sounded like cooing. Smokescreen’s optics just lit up in embarrassment at the tone. 

“What’s a butterfly?! Or a tummy?!”

_ :Little harmless Earth insect, human word for tanks. The term’s a human metaphor for being a little nervous, especially because of...romantic feelings.: _

“...Guess I am kinda nervous.” Smokescreen admitted with a little voice. Bumblebee offered a servo to him.

_ :Would holding my hand again help?:  _ Bumblebee cringed internally as he realized his attempt at flirting was poorly timed and immensely awkward.

Smokescreen took a long minute struggling to keep his optics from flashing any brighter. However, he did accept the offer and silently reached for Bee’s servo, rubbing his thumb against the back.

Bumblebee just shifted from his knees to his aft, making an intelligible sound that a human would call  _ purring _ . Smokescreen soon also moved to sit on his rear, slowly pulling Bee closer as the butterflies settled.


	5. Autobot Cuddle Pile (Prompt 5: Cuddling)

“Prime!” Agent Fowler barked as he marched out of the elevator. “The Cons are-what the fifty states is going on here?!”

Fowler’s eyes had a difficult time taking in the scene--it looked like a 5 robot pile-up at first--some sort of freak accident. But then his eyes adjusted and it was an entirely different scene. 

Optimus was splayed out on the floor on his back, and Ratchet was laying his head across one arm and curled up against his chest. Bumblebee was barely squeezed into the space between them with his doorwings fluttering ever so softly, like a child who interrupted his parents sleeping in on a Saturday. Bulkhead was pressing his helm into Optimus’s free servo, and curled in towards the Prime. The Wrecker was hugging Arcee ever so gently, which the smaller bot actually seemed to be tolerating--no,  _ enjoying.  _ There were various large, soft items Fowler recalled retrieving strewn around--comically large stuffed animals, large foam blocks turned into pillows, the ridiculous amount of wool yarn he managed to procure for the kids turns out to have been knitted into several bot-sized blankets. They all seemed unbothered by Fowler’s shouting, even grumpy old Ratchet, who simply pressed his face into Optimus’s side. 

“...Prime, what are you guys  _ doing _ ?”

“Just something from Earth the children introduced to us, Agent Fowler.” Optimus had a blissed expression across his face, and his tongue dripped a lazy sweetness as he spoke. “They called it a ‘cuddle pile.’”

A gentle movement came from under the blanket strewn haphazardly across Optimus’s front, and he carefully maneuvered to free a servo and dip it under the blanket. When he withdrew it, a trio of sleepy human children wrapped in their own human-sized blankets came with it. They looked up at Fowler and waved before they gently pressed back into each other and laid down against Optimus’s servo.

“I want a turn with them, Optimus.” Bulkhead pleaded a bit, and with the utmost care, Optimus passed the children into a waiting nest of soft foam and blankets that sat on Bulkhead’s shoulder. The children weren’t even bothered by this--Jack and Raf simply stayed put and Miko shifted slightly to touch her guardian’s armor plates. Arcee wiggled out of Bulkhead’s hold and went to go hide under the blanket Optimus had on him, almost like she was waiting for the moment.

Fowler just blinked at the scene. He knew the bots were fully capable of emotions, of being tender with each other, and of familial bonds...but for some reason the sight of what his superiors had labeled “killing machines” and “highly dangerous extraterrestrials” cuddling together like...well, like human children...it. It threw him off, but in a good way--a pleasant surprise, as though there was one last present from Santa hiding behind the Christmas tree.

“I...really hate to be the one who has to ruin this moment for you all.” Fowler was uncharacteristically soft. “But Decepticons are currently stalking a military caravan.”

“I understand, Agent Fowler. Autobots…” Optimus sighed, and Fowler cringed as he heard all the bots try to conceal their disappointed groans. The children were being shuffled back and forth between bots until they were safely on the platform set aside for them, still a groggy pile of human children cuddling without any inhibitions. The bots tossed aside blankets and comfort objects to reopen up the floor of the silo as they scrambled to their positions.

“Sorry, guys.” Fowler announced. “Maybe next time you’ll get a full sesh in.”

“Duty calls regardless of its convenience to us, Agent Fowler.” Optimus put up his battle mask in preparation, rolling his neck. “We will always have another time for relaxation.”

“I hope you do.” Fowler steeled himself again as Ratchet demanded coordinates. 


	6. Mother Hen (Prompt 6: Afraid to Sleep)

Ratchet sighed deeply as he continued to type on his console carefully. The night was young, and he had so much more work to do yet. He slowly turned an eye over to the platform for the children and noted that they were not there. A small surge of panic waved over him--they were just there, asleep. And now they were not.

“Rafael?” Ratchet called out. “Jack, Miko?”

“We’re here…” Jack’s voice replied, and Ratchet’s sirens whopped as he looked down to see all three of the children on the desk portion of the console, swaying in a sleepy way and rubbing their eyes.

“You three should be on the couch recharging.” Ratchet chided, starting to offer a servo to them to carry them back to the couch.

“Can’t sleep.” Raf whined a bit, staggering a bit and sitting on a small (for Ratchet, anyways) box on the console.

“Well, why ever not?” Ratchet crossed his arms across his chassis. 

“We’re scared for the others.” Miko looked somber, and extremely concerned, even through her sleepiness. The other bots were out on a mission, and naturally the children were concerned for them. Ratchet took a deep breath and looked down to them again. 

“They will be perfectly safe. You all still need to rest. It is...important for your health and development.” Ratchet barely remembered what June had told him about children and sleep in her human medical lessons.

“Can we pleeeease lay on your shoulder?” Raf begged, eyes shining. Ratchet was taken aback by Raf’s please--demands for comfort were rare from the youngest of them.

“Raf, we’d probably fall off…” Jack sighed, moving to sit next to his young friend. Miko grumbled and teared up, frustrated by exhaustion more than anything else.

“You would fall, especially if you were to go into recharge...but I believe I may. Have a solution.” Ratchet sounded gruff, like he couldn’t believe what he was doing. He took some soft, clean cloths from the large bin under the console, opened up his back kibble, and slowly dropped them in, keeping his eye on the screen. The children watched in bewilderment and whispered to each other--they didn’t know the backpack-like bump on the bot’s back actually  _ opened _ when he was in his natural state, let alone held stuff.

“Ratchet...what are you doing…?” Miko piped up.

“I believe you call it a...blanket nest?” Ratchet considered, and then offered a servo out again to pick them up and place them into his kibble. The children looked at each other before they climbed into his hand carefully, and Ratchet just as carefully set them into his kibble to snuggle down. He carefully closed his back compartment and got back to work, confident that the children wouldn’t leave his protection and sight again.

And that they would rest.

From inside the kibble, the kids were a bit bewildered by the experience, and drunk on exhaustion. They poked at the lights inside Ratchet’s kibble and watched them gently pulse in response, as if they were, well, living. 

“Wow…” Raf gasped a bit, flopping back and sinking slightly into the cloths, the first to nod off. The others cuddled up to him not long after, protecting the smallest of them in their holds.

When the other Autobots returned the next morning, thankfully unharmed, the guardians of the children instantly went to the couch. They all gasped and horror and began clamoring about how the children were lost, and Ratchet just hushed them.

“Where are they?!” Arcee demanded, and Ratchet’s optics just burned as he popped his kibble open. The children, having heard their guardians, were awake and sticking their heads out, reaching out like newsparks. Optimus let out a low chuckle as he watched his team collect their charges.

“What is so funny, Optimus?” Ratchet demanded, whipping around once the children were safely out.

“I believe humans call this ‘mother henning’.”

Ratchet let out an indignant whop. “Optimus Prime, I am  _ not- _ ! They were just causing more problems outside of the kibble than inside of it”

“You may continue to tell yourself that, Ratchet.” Optimus replied, a little smug.


	7. Rust Sticks and Silk Pillows (Prompt 7: Pillow Fort)

Orion had no idea what the  _ frag _ he was doing, sneaking Megatronus into his hab-suite. The larger bot was almost caught several times as he was tugged along by Orion along the streets of Iacon and then past the front desk of Orion’s building and to the lift.

“What did you bring me here for, Orion?” Megatronus sighed softly, sitting on Orion’s couch and crossing his legs.

“I..wanted to spend some time with you.” Orion squirmed a bit.

“In what way?”

“...Nevermind, it’s something for sparklings.” Orion was panicking and his optics were bright in embarrassment. 

“What is it, Orion.” Megatronus demanded. “Don’t make this trip all the way from Kaon a waste.”

“...I wanted to make a fort with you.”

“Do  _ what _ ?”

“Make a fort. You know. With bedding?”

Megatronus uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. “I’m listening, Archivist.”

Hours ticked on and found Orion and Megatronus turning the archivist’s living room into a haven of a blanket fort, the floor lined with soft pillows wrapped in a silk-like material (“I did not know you were so self-indulgent, Pax.” “I never claimed I was free of worldly desires, Megatronus.”) Despite the softness laid all over the floor, Orion found himself climbing all over Megatronus, a soft whine for cuddles escaping him. Megatronus rolled his eyes good-naturedly and obliged, wrapping a strong arm around his little friend. 

“Are you happy now, Archivist?”

“I am, Champion.”

Megatronus just closed his optics, resting them for just a while. The soft, comfortable darkness and the weight of Orion against his chest eased his weary spark and made him forget what awaited back at Kaon, his position in this damned society.

That was, until he heard a scraping sound from directly above him.

“Orion?”

“Hm?” The smaller bot sounded like his mouth was full. Megatronus opened an eye to find Orion still on top of him, delicately holding a strange, amber stick of what Megatronus could only assume to be some type of Energon in both servos as he nibbled it.

“...What is that?”

“A rust stick.” Orion sounded like a sparkling caught getting into mischief.

“What is a rust stick?” Megatronus had never heard of such a thing, really--they didn’t have those in Kaon.

“It’s an Energon goodie.” Orion produced another stick from his subspace and offered it. “You want one?”

_ Ah, yes. One of the many Iaconian indulgences--elaborately crafted Energon treats. _ Megatronus looked at sweet, the bitterness of his position taking hold in his spark before he looked back up at Orion. Orion’s face looked innocent, but concerned. “...Have I committed a faux pas again?”

“No, you have not. You are not responsible for all of society’s evil.” Megatronus informed, taking the stick and inspecting it before nibbling at it. He jumped a bit as the sweetness bloomed in his mouth, nothing like the rations he received in Kaon had ever provided him.

“You OK?” Orion asked again, careful.

“It’s but a new experience, Pax.” Megatron took another small, hesitant bite, shivering at the sweetness again. “And I think I enjoy it.”

Orion resettled, and they both enjoyed their treats as the sun lowered behind the horizon, bathed in a comfortable, peaceful silence.


End file.
